Sandstone Cove
by cosmogirl7481
Summary: I came here looking for some rest, some relaxation…some downtime. I never expected to find anything else. I certainly never expected to find him. Written for Marvar's birthday because I love her. Rated M for reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**For Marvar**

Prologue

I can feel the soft, worn wood under my legs as I sit on the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is just now rising over the ocean – vivid flecks of yellow, pink, and just a hint of lavender fill the horizon that seems so far off, and yet, I feel as if I could reach out and touch it.

And just like the colors, everything seems hazy.

I came here looking for some rest, some relaxation…some downtime.

I never expected to find anything else.

I certainly never expected to find him.

I take in a deep breath. I can almost feel the salt in the air on my tongue. It does nothing to take away the bitter taste in my mouth left over from the harsh words spoken the night before.

Words from my tongue.

Words from his.

They hang in the air around me, when all I want is for them to be carried away on the outgoing tide. To wash away with the waves and be carried out to sea like some letter in a bottle that no one will ever read.

This week was supposed to easy.

And it was, wasn't it?

I guess that's the problem. Everything about it was too easy.

Too simple.

Too effortless to just fall into.

And I did, it seems. I fell. So hard that it hurt. As I rub my tired eyes and stretch my aching muscles that pull and flex and stretch and burn, I realize it still does. This hurts. I don't know what to do to make it stop…to make it better.

Then I hear his voice behind me. "I thought I'd find you here."

He presses up against my back and his arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me against his warm, bare chest. Everything about this – about him – is soft and hard and fucking perfect. I don't even try to fight it. I melt against him as the sun bathes us both in its warmth. He holds me steady as I push against him, and even though I know he has to let me go, right now he doesn't.

He won't.

As the wind whips my hair around the both of us, I turn my head back, looking up at him, and say, "You didn't find me here, Edward. I found you."

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So, it's been a while since I've done this. Most of you know the drill. This will update multiple times and complete by the end of the day. It's technically not Marvar's birthday until Sunday, but I'll be unable to do this then because of work. So she gets her present a couple days early. I love you, Soulmate!

I'm saving all the thanks until the end, but you should know that the beautiful and wonderful HolletLA beta'd this since Marvar couldn't beta her own present. However, I made a couple changes during edits, so any mistakes are mine and definitely not hers.

As always, I don't own them. I just make them do dirty things.

See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	2. Chapter 2

Six days earlier…

The cab pulls up in front of the resort. If that's what you want to call it. Funny how it looked so much better online. The dark color of the building looks ominous instead of beachy. But as the cabbie opens my door, the smell of sea salt overwhelms me, and I can't help but relax, even if it is just a little. I've always loved the beach, and this little getaway is exactly what I need. Besides, who cares if the hotel isn't perfect. Just as long as the sun and water are.

"Welcome to Sandstone Cove," the cabbie says, handing me a business card. "I'm Waylon. My info's on the card whenever you're ready to head home. But be careful, girl. This is the closest thing to paradise I've ever found. You might just decide not to leave."

He winks.

"I doubt that," I tell him. "I'm sure it's nice, but I just need a little downtime."

"Funny," he says, pulling my bag from the trunk. "I said the same thing over twenty years ago. And I'm still here."

As I approach the hotel, dragging my suitcase behind me, I notice that the wood on the building isn't really all that dark. Instead, it looks like driftwood. _It's cute_, I think. _Kitschy_. I already feel much better about my online decision-making. As I enter the building, cold central air rushes over me, and I shiver. At least the AC is working, because pale as I am, I'm likely to burn after the first fifteen minutes in the sun.

I head over to the check-in counter. No one's there and there's an actual bell for me to ring. The moment I do, a middle-aged woman rushes from the back to greet me. "Welcome to the Ocean View, darlin'," she gushes. "I'm Esme, and you must be Miss Swan. We've been expecting you."

"You have?" I say, surprised. "Why have you been expecting me?"

"Well, you're the only check-in we have booked today."

"That's…odd," I say. "It's summer. Aren't you guys booked all the time?"

"Oh, we have lots of regulars, of course. Snowbirds who are here for the whole summer and what-not. But you're the only new one this week."

"Snowbirds?" I ask hesitantly. "If you don't mind my asking, what's the average age range of your…umm…your clientele?"

I mean, I'm no spring chicken, but thirty does seem a bit young for a vacation of early-bird dinners with _snowbirds_.

"Don't you worry, sweetie," she says with a wink. "I'm sure you'll find something or someone to keep you entertained this week."

"Great." I smile. I hope it doesn't seem forced or fake because she seems too nice to disappoint, but I'm seriously reconsidering my decision to go low-key. I should have shelled out the extra money and gone to Miami. But remind myself that low-key is what I wanted. I'm already here, so I need to make the best of things.

She swipes my credit card and hands me my room key. This place is so old, it's actually a key and not a card. _Kitschy_, I remind myself.

"Now, once you're settled in, come on back down. We have a cocktail lounge over to the left. And I'm sure there's a drink in there with your name written all over it."

I smile, and this time it's not even forced.

"That actually sounds perfect."


	3. Chapter 3

After a short nap, I shower and change into a maxi dress. I don't even shave my legs because odds are, Waylon will be the only man in the bar under the age of seventy. And it's not like anyone will be rubbing my legs tonight. Or any night for that matter. I leave my hair down and don't bother with makeup. After all, I'm on vacation. A little lip gloss will do.

When I walk into the bar, I'm surprised by how dark it is inside. The sun has set, and the huge window overlooking the ocean offers little to no light. But I can still see the water of the ocean sparkling in the distance and hear the waves gently crashing on the shore. There are small hurricane lamps on the tables, though, and old, red light fixtures over the bar which I decide to take a seat at.

I look around. There are a few people scattered throughout – mostly older couples just like I'd imagined. There's not a single person at the bar, though. I absentmindedly pick up a few peanuts from a small wooden bowl when I hear his voice, "I don't know if I'd eat those."

When I look up, I'm thankful I didn't eat them because I'm certain I would've choked. He's tall and handsome – no, not handsome – he's fucking gorgeous. Dark hair that almost looks red, but I can't really tell because it could just be the lights overhead. His eyes are so wide and bright…even in the dark. And they're looking straight at me. Into me.

I don't even think I can breathe.

Somehow I manage to get some words out, "Why not?"

"Because you don't know who's already touched them or where their hands might have been."

"Well," I tell him before popping a few into my mouth, "I'm on vacation. I guess I want to live dangerously."

His smile eclipses everything around me – the sound of the beach, the smell of the sand and salt. I forget for just a moment exactly who I am and what I'm doing.

"If you want to live dangerously," he says, leaning in over the bar closer to me, "I'm sure we can do a hell of a lot better than peanuts."

_Fuck me._

I'm not sure where the bravery comes from. Maybe it's because I don't know him, or maybe it's because I'm on vacation and will probably never see him again, but I hear myself speak in this low, sultry voice that doesn't even sound like my own, "What did you have in mind?"

"Why don't we start with a drink?"

"What do you suggest?"

"I've always been partial to Sex on the Beach."

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	4. Chapter 4

His voice drips sex, but then again, so does everything else about him. God, I don't know what comes over me, but I lean in closer, too. Just over the bar a little, close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I want.

Fuck me, I totally want.

"Are you talking about the drink?" I ask. "Or about the act itself?"

His eyes darken, but his smile stays easy and relaxed.

"Depends on if you're in the mood for vodka…or something a little harder."

"Only a little?"

His loud laugh at my words breaks the moment we had going. I'm disappointed as he steps back and begins to pour me a drink. At least I think it's my drink. He's adding a lot of liquor from different bottles.

Like a lot.

I think he might be trying to get me drunk, which is pretty stupid on his part because right now, just looking at him, I'm the surest thing in Sandstone Cove.

He moves to place the drink in front of me, but before he does, he takes a long pull from the glass himself. "Why don't we start with the drink, beautiful girl? You know, before we move on to anything else."

I'm just about to feel disappointed, which is ridiculous because he just called me beautiful, but then he adds, "And just so you know…nothing about me is little."

_Well, then._

I flush all over, and even in this dark room, I'm certain he can see it. Hell, he can probably feel it from where he's standing. I take a drink to calm my nerves and say, "I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

"I guess you will," he says. "For now."

A couple people walk inside and sit at the other end of the bar, and without another word or look, he walks away from me and over to them. My heart is pounding, so I take another drink and tell myself to settle the fuck down. He was just flirting with me because I'm the only woman here who isn't attached or geriatric. And while I'm not above admitting I liked the attention, I'm also a little embarrassed that I let myself take it so far.

He probably just wants a big tip.

The drink is good, though. And before I know it, I'm relaxing in my seat, leaning back and closing my eyes. There's soft music playing overhead, and that combined with the sound of the ocean just outside is enough to lull me into this amazing state of contentment. This – _exactly this_ – is what I was looking for on this vacation.

"Easy now," he says. I open my eyes and he's right back in front of me, leaning on the bar. Everything about him is still laid-back, but there's something in his eyes. Something in the way that he's looking at me. "That drink's pretty strong."

"It's a good thing I'm a big girl and can handle it, then."

He reaches across and takes the now-empty drink from my hand. When he does, his fingers brush against and linger on mine for just a moment. He's so warm against the cold of the glass, but before I can enjoy the way his skin feels against mine, he pulls back.

"Well, then…maybe I should pour you another."

"I'd like that."

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm leaning over the banister overlooking the ocean on the deck outside the bar. I'm three drinks-tipsy, with just about one sheet to the wind. And goddamn, the wind feels good.

_I feel good._

In fact, I feel downright amazing.

The bar actually got busy – well, busier – and the bartender's attention was pulled in more directions than I cared to keep up with. So, I wandered out here for a little fresh air. Now, here I stand, surrounded by moonlight and the sound of the tide. Every time I breathe in, I wonder why I waited so long to take this vacation.

I'm contemplating taking off my sandals and walking down onto the beach when I feel him behind me. "So, this is where you disappeared to?"

I'm so relaxed, I'm not even startled. Though I do feel a warm rush the moment I feel his hand on the small of my back.

"I didn't disappear," I tell him. "You just didn't see me leave."

He presses in closer as his hand slides up my back and pushes my hair to the side. I feel his breath, warmer and wetter than the humid air around me as he murmurs, "I might not have seen you go, but I definitely noticed you were gone."

I don't know what comes over me. Maybe it's the alcohol pulsing through my veins to rapid beat of my heart. Or maybe it's because I just don't care about the stupid, little rules I abide by in my real life – the ones where I'm supposed to be coy and play hard to get. But this isn't really real, is it? Nothing about this feels hard. So, I turn around to face him. For a moment – just for a second – I see his intense eyes. They connect with mine before he presses me back against the railing. With the feel of the wood on my bare back, he kisses me soft, hard, wet, and deep.

I don't even close my eyes.

He doesn't even close his.

"I've been waiting to do that all night," he breathes.

"Was it worth the wait?"

"Fuck yeah, it was."

"I don't even know your name."

"Does it matter?"

"Does mine?"

He presses in again, slower this time. His mouth covers mine, open and seeking. I just let him because it feels good, because just once, I don't want to be the girl who worries about everyone and everything but myself. I don't want anything but this.

"Beautiful girl," he says, dragging out the words, his breath against my face. "I already know who you are."

"Who am I?"

"Bella does mean beautiful, doesn't it?"

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't think about anything as I lead him through the mostly desolate lobby of the hotel. Though, it does strike me that the woman behind the check-in counter is watching us. It doesn't embarrass me, though. She's probably not used to women taking the staff upstairs to do only God knows what. And right now, with the way his hands feel holding mine, his fingers tracing imaginary words that speak to the things they're capable of doing elsewhere, I _need_ to do God knows what.

The doors to the elevator close and he pushes me up against the wall. He licks a long line along the side of my neck, breathing words about how good I smell, how good I taste. Then he grabs my dress right over my hip – he just bunches the fabric up in his fist – and I can't help the loud, wanton moan that escapes me. Because I can't remember the last time that anyone handled me this way. Hell, I don't know if _anyone_ has ever handled me this way.

"Do you know how fucking sexy you are?" he pants.

He pulls back, and in the light of the elevator, I notice for the first time that his eyes are green. The color of algae, I think. Or deep sea water, the kind you only get to see when you go so far out that you can't even see the promise of land…

I close my eyes, fighting off the overpowering urge my mind has to wander elsewhere. I don't want to be anywhere but here.

"Where did you go, beautiful girl?"

"Nowhere," I lie. "I was just looking at your eyes. They're gorgeous."

He pushes my legs open and presses up close to me in between them. "Not as gorgeous as yours." His hands reach around and fully grab my ass. He moans this time, loud and long and it just might be the sexiest thing I've ever heard. "I can't wait to get this dress off you. You want that, don't you? You wanna be naked and spread out underneath me."

His words spark something inside me that make me realize I actually do want that. I actually do want to be naked and stretched open with him between my legs…

_Fuck._

I tense at the thought, and he immediately senses something's wrong.

"What's wrong?" he asks as I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

"We can't do this," I tell him, shaking my head.

"Oh, we're doing this," he says. "Open your eyes, Bella."

I do, and when I see him, his eyes are still intense and filled with just as much lust as before. Even if there is just a little bit of concern around the edges.

"I know you're probably thinking that this is normal behavior for me, but it's not. I don't do this. I don't pick up random men in bars and bring them back to my room."

His smile is fucking perfect, which is what makes this even harder, and makes me even stupider than I am already.

"If that's supposed to turn me off, beautiful girl, you've got it all wrong. I like that you don't do this very often."

"Try not at all. Not ever."

"I know you want this," he tells me, leaning and kissing me. I just let him because, well, he's gorgeous and sexy and… "I can feel how much you want it. I can taste it on your tongue."

"No," I tell him. "You don't understand. We can't do this, not because I don't want to, but because I'm really, seriously not the kind of woman who does this. And because I'm _not_ that kind of woman, because I fully expected to get nothing more out of tonight than a few drinks and a few moments to myself to relax…I didn't even shave my legs. And trust me, if I'm getting naked and spread out anywhere, I _need_ to shave my legs. Girls shave their legs before sex. It's what we do. It's like a rule or something."

The door to the elevator opens to my floor, and he pulls me out before saying another word. This is humiliating. Only before I can melt into a puddle and die from embarrassment, he jerks me to him – all the way up against him – hard and swift.

"I don't give a fuck about any part of your body that may or may not be shaved, least of all your legs. All I care about is the fact that they'll be wrapped around me while I'm licking you…_and fucking you_. You got that, beautiful girl?"

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	7. Chapter 7

He pulls the dress over my head with steady hands, and I wonder how he's not as nervous as I am. I don't want to think about the idea that it means he does this all the time. But as he drops it on the floor and bends to kiss me, the taste of his mouth, his tongue, and the way he just takes me into his arms and presses me up against his body, I don't have a thought in the world about any of that. I don't care who he's been with. I only care that he's here with me like this right now.

"Tell me you want it," he says, just before sucking my neck and licking along my collarbone.

"Yes."

His hands push underneath my panties, grabbing my ass as I tremble with the need to actually do this – to feel this. His cock is pressing against my hipbone, and fuck, it's so hard.

"No second thoughts."

"None."

He squeezes my ass once more before pushing my panties down my legs leaving me bare and exposed, aching and wet, and absolutely ready. As his hands slide back up, he says, "Open."

I do.

Only a little.

Enough for him to slide two fingers just inside the lips of my pussy. He doesn't enter me; instead, he spreads me open, stroking me, rubbing me, and touching everything except my clit. It's hot – his fingers, the room, the flush that covers my skin. But as he continues to touch me, the burn feels deeper, slower. It's not overwhelming in its intensity, but more like a desire that smolders between us, promising something more.

"Wet," he murmurs, his breath hot against my thigh. "But not wet enough. Let's see what we can do about that. Get on the bed."

I sit down as he undresses, and the moment he pushes his jeans over his cock, I gasp. It's not like I've never seen a dick before, but I've definitely never seen one like this.

Perfect.

Gorgeous.

Unexpected in more ways than one.

It's hard and long and uncut, with the swollen, wet head just peeking out of his foreskin. I want to push it back and lick it, suck it, take it in my mouth until all I can taste and smell and feel is him.

"I told you it wasn't little."

His laugh is soft and low as he steps forward, and without thinking, I reach out and take him in my hand. He hisses and I love it. The feel of him – thick and heavy in my hand – causes me to clench my pussy as I wonder what all of this is going to feel like inside me.

Oh, God. He's going to be inside me.

"Kiss it," he rasps, his hand closing over mine. Together we push back his foreskin, fully exposing his head. "Just a little taste, beautiful girl. You see that slit? Get it all wet and lick it, just like I'm gonna do to yours."

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	8. Chapter 8

The room is mostly dark, but there's an annoying slice of bright light shining through the crack in the curtains. It wakes me up, and for a moment, I'm disoriented and forget where I am.

That's when I feel it.

That delicious ache between my legs that tells me I have been well and truly fucked.

That's when I feel him.

Like all of him. He's still here in my room asleep on my bed, and I'm currently using his upper body as a pillow. He takes in a deep breath and wraps his arms tighter around me. And just the feeling of his hands, his body…yeah. It causes everything from the night before to come rushing back.

Every kiss.

Every touch.

Jesus, every single thrust.

His breathing evens out, and I decide to use the light shining in to look at him. You know, while he's sleeping and doesn't know that I'm staring at him like a creepy stalker. I reason with myself that I can't be a stalker because he's willingly here. Not only that, he willing stayed after he _more_ than willingly participated in what can only be described as the best sex of my life.

Yes, I had the best sex of my life with stubble on my legs.

And true to his word, he didn't seem to give a single goddamn.

Turns out, I was right about the red hair. It's definitely red, but it has these light copper highlights running through it. When the light hits them in just the right way, they almost look blond. He looks so relaxed in his sleep, almost happy. I can't help but wonder if I looked like that while I was sleeping. If I did, I can't really imagine it. I haven't been relaxed in such a long time.

That's when it strikes me. Somewhere between staring at his gorgeous, untroubled face, I realize I don't even know his name.

Oh, God.

I don't even know his name.

Is this who I am? Am I the kind of woman who picks up and fucks some random man I don't even know? And not just that – am I so starved for physical affection that I not only fuck him, but I sleep with him in my bed all night, all pressed up against his naked body like it's _normal_.

This is not normal.

Maybe for him, but definitely not for me.

His arms wrap around me tighter, almost like he can feel my sudden anxiety. His hands drop down, rubbing all along my lower back before finally settling on my ass. My naked ass. And it feels so good. It feels so…right. Like I could just curl back up and let him hold me. Like this is where I'm supposed to be. But how am I supposed to be here when – in the light of day – everything about this is wrong?

This isn't me.

I don't do this.

And beyond that, I can't allow myself to feel some attachment to a man who won't be around at the end of this week. _I won't be around at the end of this week._

I allow myself one more look at his face, one more moment to feel his hard body pressed against mine while I remember the way he felt inside me.

Fuck me, it was so fucking good.

But I can't.

So, as quickly and as quietly as I can, I untangle myself from him. He stirs for a second, but settles back down. Then I grab some clothes from my bag – just a bathing suit and a cover up – and I get dressed.

I don't even let myself look back as I open the door, then quietly close it behind me.

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	9. Chapter 9

"So this is where you disappeared to."

I'm lying on my stomach; the sun is beating down on my back, and even over the sound of the waves and the seagulls and the ocean wind, I know it's him. I don't even have to look.

I don't look.

I can't.

He drops down beside me on the big towel they gave me at the hotel, and he smells fresh and clean. Like lavender. Like my shampoo. I turn my head away from him because the urge to look at him is so strong, so much I think I'll lose every bit of the resolve I'm clinging to inside.

"You know," he starts, his hand touching the small of my back. And even though it's hot out here and the August sun has been beating down on my sunscreened-skin for the best part of two hours, I still heel this heat. "If you're going to try to run away, you're gonna have to do better than leaving me in _your_ room. In the _same_ hotel I work at."

"I wasn't running away," I lie.

"Oh, really? I must have missed the part where you woke me up and we had sex again because I have to say…that was totally _my_ plan for this morning."

Fuck.

"Well, your plan was flawed."

"No," he says, his hand sliding up my back and playing with the strings on my bathing suit. "I'm pretty sure my plan ended with both of us happy and satisfied, while yours ended with me waking up alone in a bed that still smelled like you…_like sex_." His fingers slide under the strings, pressing softly against my skin, while I fight everything in me that begs me to turn around and let him touch me everywhere else. "And you ended up here alone, getting what looks like the beginning of a sunburn. I think that means my plan was definitely better than your plan."

I don't say anything because I have no witty remark, and honestly because the feeling of him touching me in such an innocent yet intimate way is causing me to lose the capability to think. Much less speak.

"Bella," he says my name, fully leaning over me now and blocking my body from the sun. "Look at me. Can't you even look at me?"

His voice is soft and genuine…pleading. And just like that, I look at him and snap, "I don't even know your name! Do you know what that means…what that says about me?"

His smile is the kind of smile that makes me want to forget little details like the fact that I don't really know him or his name. "I'd like to think that it means you were so caught up in the moment, so busy enjoying me and all the things I wanted to do to you – _that I did to you_ – that my name didn't seem important. Because – and forgive me for saying so – what we did together last night is hell of a lot more interesting and important than my name. It's Edward, by the way. Hi, my name is Edward. I have copies of all my college transcripts and my social security number if you need that as well."

"That's not funny."

He laughs and leans down right beside me on his side. "It is, actually. It's pretty fucking funny. I mean, did you care about my name while I was licking your pussy last night? Because when I was doing that…I didn't care about a single thing other than the way you tasted."

I die a little at the memory, and when I stare up at him, I notice he doesn't even look fazed. He still looks like the easy man from last night. Like he doesn't even have a care in the world. I wonder for just a minute what that must feel like.

"Do you know what you tasted like, Bella?" he asks, his voice low as he presses in closer.

"No."

"Like sex on the beach," he breathes. "And I want to taste you again. And next time, you can say my name."

He makes it seem like it would be so effortless, like I could just do this.

"I'm only here for a week," I offer lamely, knowing as I say it how stupid it sounds.

He doesn't seem to listen, or even care about the weak argument I've offered up. He just leans down and kisses me. As wind brushes over us, and the waves collide against the shore only to be taken back out to sea, I let him.

"Then we should make it a good one, beautiful girl."

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	10. Chapter 10

The moment we lose sight of the shore, I know this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have let him talk me into this. A thousand memories come rushing back to me. Memories of fishing poles and baiting hooks and the smile on Charlie's face – a smile that was reserved for only me and all the times we would do this together when I was a kid. But the weather is perfect, and I let the gentle rocking of the boat and the drink in my hand soothe me.

"Isn't it beautiful out here?" he says, stepping up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"I have." I nod. "But you're right. It's really gorgeous out here."

"Then why do you seem further away from me than we are from the shore?"

He pushes my hair to the side and softly kisses my neck. His mouth is warm and sucking and it feels so good, I don't even have to pretend that I can forget everything going on inside my mind.

He makes me forget.

"I'm right here," I say, leaning back against his chest. "I didn't go anywhere."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Is this your boat?" I ask. It's not anywhere remotely close to what I was thinking, but I don't want to think about anything but him, and I actually really do want to know.

"Not mine," he says, pulling me back. We settle into one of the long, leather seats and he wraps his arms around me again. "It's my dad's. But I use it all the time. Well, whenever I get a chance when I'm not working."

Turns out, Edward's family owns the Ocean View. And to my severe mortification, his mother, Esme, was the one who checked me in a couple days ago. The same woman who saw me take her son upstairs that same night.

So that's awesome.

"You like to fish?"

"No," he says, his fingers playing just over my thigh. "But I do love the ocean. And I like spending time out here. It's peaceful. Gives me time to think."

"You don't bring all the girls out here, then?"

"I'm not saying I've never been out here with a woman, but no…I generally come out here alone. Why?"

"I wasn't…" I blush. "I didn't mean to imply anything."

His green eyes are soft, but clouded.

"You just wanted to know if there's someone…or multiple someones? I get it. But you _have_ seen the kind of people who stay at this hotel, right? It's not exactly a hotbed for eligible women my age. Honestly, the night you walked into the bar was the best night I'd had all year."

"But surely you don't only meet or hang out with people from the hotel. You must have friends or whatever…you know, outside of work."

"I do." He nods. "I have friends, but no one – not like that –I want to bring out here like this. And definitely no one that I want to do this with." With that, he covers my mouth with his and I just open up to him, kissing him as deeply as he'll allow it.

He pulls me fully into his lap, and I sit, pressed against him where he's already hard for me. And I can do this, I think. I can just be with him like this and let him make me feel this way. Like I could be like him without a care in the world.

"What about you?" he murmurs against my mouth. "What are your secrets, beautiful girl?"

"I don't have any."

His hands cup my face, and he pulls back just enough to look at me. "I don't believe that. But when you're ready to tell me, I'll be here."

"And what if I'm never ready?"

His thumbs trace the line of my lips, his eyes searching mine. "Then I'll just have to keep on kissing you."

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	11. Chapter 11

"Hold still," he murmurs.

His hand is splayed across my stomach while I lie here spread completely open before him.

Naked.

I've never felt so completely open and naked before in my life.

And he's looking at me like this. Like he's fascinated, like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. I want to think about it, but I can't. I can't think about anything because the fingers on his other hand are stroking me softly. And everything is so slippery and wet as he spreads me open even farther. He blows short puffs of air on my clit before licking it with his tongue and pulling it into his mouth and just…._oh, fuck_…sucking.

"Your pussy is so pretty, beautiful girl. All pink and wet and swollen and just ready for me."

A long finger pushes inside and I whimper. I can't help it.

"Oh, God," I moan.

"See, baby? You didn't even need to know my name. Because while I'm flattered that you think so, I'm definitely not god."

And then two fingers.

Pushing in, pumping…stretching me.

"How are you this tight around my fingers, beautiful girl. How are you this tight and this fucking wet every single time? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"No." Because I don't. I don't even know my own name right now.

"It makes me feel like you only get this way for me. Like I'm the only man who's ever made you feel this way. Is that true? Tell me. Am I the only one who's ever made you this wet before you've even come? Is it only my fingers? My mouth? My cock?"

"Yes," I whimper. Because it's true. Not ever, not even once in my entire life have I ever felt like this with anyone. And it's not just how I feel, but how he makes me feel. Like this is okay. Like it should just be okay that he's kneeling on the floor in my room in the middle of the day holding me down and open and just _playing_ with me.

I don't even care how it must look because the moment I look at him and see the way he's looking at me, I know he loves it just as much as I do.

"And what about here?" he says lowly, his fingers sliding out of me and down lower. He presses against me there, even as I tense. "Has anyone ever touched you here?"

"No," I tell him, "n-no."

"Shhh…" He soothes me. "What if I told you I wanted to? What if I told you that while I lick your little clit, I want to press my finger just inside you here?"

He presses even harder this time, and I buck up off the bed. But he just presses me down again, rubbing my stomach with his hand and shushing me.

"You…you can't," I tell him, but there's no authority in my tone, not even the hope of assertion. "I've never…and it will…"

"Don't you trust me, beautiful girl?" he murmurs. "Don't you know that there's nothing in the world I won't make good for you? And if you'll just lie back and relax, I swear I'll make this good. I can make you feel things you've never even thought about."

Maybe it's the sound of his voice, or maybe it's the words he's just said, but I settle almost instantly. I feel myself sink down into the mattress and into this place where I want everything he's offering. Where I'll just open up and give him everything he's asking for.

"That's it," he says, slipping his fingers back up to my pussy. "You're so fucking wet – this is all I need. Do you know what it does to me that you want me to do this? Do you know how it makes me feel? How my cock is so hard right now it's painful?"

I don't answer him.

I can't.

And then he just leans in and covers my pussy with his mouth – sucking and licking and making these noises I've never heard him make before. His sounds, they're foreign and feral and too much for me to bear. Everything builds as he kisses me, as he fucks me with his tongue. Just when I'm about to fall over – just when there's nothing but a moment away from blissful oblivion – his finger slides back down and he pushes inside.

And this time I scream his name.

His.

In the aftermath of everything that's happened, when he crawls up on the bed and holds me while I come down, I realize that his name is the only one I've ever screamed like that.

Even more, it's the only one I ever want to say again.

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See you soon!

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	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask.

It's midnight, and we're down on the beach after Edward finished closing up the bar. He's spreading out an old sheet on the sand that feels cool and soft and just a bit wet under my toes.

"Look around, Bella. No one's here." He reaches out and pulls me against him before we both tumble down onto the sheet. His hands reach for my ass as his leg slides between both of mine. I can't help but press myself against him just a little. "Besides. What do you think is going to happen here tonight? I'm just on the beach with my girlfriend enjoying the scenery."

I tense at his words. I don't mean to; I just can't help it.

"What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie. "It's just…I'm not…" I can't even say the word.

His long sigh says more than anything his words ever could, but that doesn't stop him. "You're not what? My girlfriend? I hate to break it to you, but I've been inside you every night for five days now. I know the way your pussy feels around my cock. I know that even though you said you'd never done it, and that you weren't sure you would like it, you fucking _loved_ the way it felt when my finger pressed just inside your ass while I licked your clit. And I loved it, too. I don't know what that means where you come from, but here, it means you are, in fact, my girlfriend."

He kisses me before I can respond, and it's hard to realize that this is what he always does when I say or do something that isn't what he wants. But the kiss – it's so fucking perfect. The way he bites my lower lip while he breathes my name into my mouth makes me want to forget everything but the way he tastes and feels. The way his hand slides under my dress, his fingers stopping just short of where I want to feel them…

And as much as I don't want to, I say, "I'm not, though, Edward."

He pushes up on his elbow and stares down at me. Even though it's completely dark out here except for the moonlight and the lights shining down from the hotel, his eyes read exactly what I didn't want.

Hurt.

"Is it the word that scares you?" he asks.

"I'm not scared."

"You are," he says. "Either it's the word that scares you or your feelings. And either way, I think you need to think about why you're scared."

"I told you, I'm not scared. I'm just…I'm realistic. I know what this is. I'm only here for a week, and in just a couple of days, I'll be gone. I'm not your girlfriend. I can't be."

He rolls away from me before sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. He sits there for a long time, just looking out over the ocean and not saying anything. Everything inside me aches to reach for him. To go back to a few moments before when he was laughing and kissing me and saying sweet things. Even if those sweet things only make everything harder.

"Why are you so closed off?" he finally asks. He doesn't look at me, and maybe that's okay. "Why can't you just let yourself be happy for just one fucking minute?"

"I _have_ been happy this week," I tell him truthfully. In all honestly, I can't remember ever being this happy. At least not since –

"Yeah, maybe," he says, pulling me from my thought. "But not really. Not enough to ever really let go and let me see you for who really are. But you know what? Even though you're good at hiding things, even though you're fucking amazing at keeping everything you don't want to share inside, I still see you, Bella. I see you in those moments when you think I'm not looking. I see that you're holding something inside that you just can't let go of. And I don't know what you're keeping to yourself, I only know that it's there. It doesn't matter how patient I am, I can't be patient forever. Like you said, you'll be gone in just a couple days. And I'll just be the guy you fucked on vacation."

His words are like a slap, and they sting and hurt even more than if he'd physically struck me. I reach out and grab his arm, and for the first time in minutes, he actually looks at me. "You're not just some guy I fucked, okay? And no matter what you think, when I leave, I'll remember you and this week forever."

He grabs me suddenly, his hands cupping my face before he kisses me hard. This kiss isn't like all the others. This kiss is intense and bubbling over with emotions so passionate and forceful it almost tastes bitter like salt water. I reach for him, too. I push my hands in his hair and I don't just let him kiss me – I kiss him back just as hard. I kiss him until my head spins and the world stops and the only thing in the universe is just the two of us on this sheet.

And then he stops.

"_This_ – what we have – what's happening between us," he says, not letting go of me, "this is real! This is fucking amazing and real. This doesn't happen to people every day, Bella. And I don't want to wake up in three days or a week or a fucking month and realize that you were just some blip on the surface of my life. Don't you get it? I don't _want_ you to be just a memory."

His heart is pounding. I can almost hear it; I can feel it in his pulse under my hands. I can't think about his words because they're too good and too perfect and altogether too much for me to handle.

"You don't understand," I whisper. "I can't be any more than that."

The hurt in his eyes is something I never want to see again. And at the same time, it's something I know I'll never forget.

"Fuck you, Bella," he spits. He drops his hands and pulls away from me. I want to reach out and hold on to him and keep him here with me forever…but I can't. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation."

He just walks away, leaving me here alone.

Just like everyone else.

I don't even watch him leave.

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See you soon!

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	13. Chapter 13

"If you've got something to ask, you might as well just ask it." Her voice carries through the lobby, and I look up from the seat I'm in and see her at the counter.

Fuck.

His mother.

Even though I've been staring at her on and off since I got here, and I've almost walked up to the counter twenty-seven times, I'm still startled by her voice.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Well, it's after three in the morning, and you're the only one down here, darlin'," she says, walking from behind the counter and over to where I'm sitting. "So, yes, I think I'm talking to you."

"I don't have any questions."

She takes the seat right next to mine. As I look at her up close, I can see every way in which Edward takes after her. He's got her eyes, her red, sun-bleached hair. Even though she's older, just like him, she's absolutely beautiful.

"Now, I know you're a guest, and while it's my job to make sure you're as comfortable as you can possibly be during your stay, you've also been sleeping with my son," she says, turning fully to face me while I want to crawl under this chair and die. "So, I think that gives me a little leeway in saying what I'm about to say."

"What do you want to say?"

I look down because I don't want to see the look in her eyes when she tells me what a bitch I am. Or even worse, if she tells me I'm a whore for sleeping with her son on the first night. And pretty much every night and day since.

"I try not to involve myself in Edward's life. God knows, his father and I are just so damn happy he decided to stay here and help us run this place."

This catches me off guard. For some reason, I thought Edward was just the bartender. I didn't know he was actually involved in helping run the family business.

"You can look up, sweetheart," she says, and at the soft tone of her voice, I do. "I'm not gonna judge you. I know you probably can't tell now, but I used to be quite the looker when I was your age. Hell, I even had my own love life. I don't begrudge you that. And I understand a little bit about lover's quarrels."

"There isn't any... What I mean, well, there wasn't like a fight or anything," I lie.

"So, you're saying that my son tore through here a couple hours ago looking pissed off at the world, and you had nothing to do with that?" she asks, but before I can respond, she adds, "Because I have to say, that doesn't sound anything like him. He's pretty easygoing for a redhead. Must get that from his father because he definitely doesn't get it from me."

"He was upset?"

"I'd say that upset is a bit of an understatement," she says, making me feel like shit. But then, she reaches over and puts her hand on top of mine. It's soft, comforting. For a moment, I almost tear up because it's been so long since someone offered me something as simple as comfort. "I'd generally be inclined to rush to judgment, but since you've been in this lobby looking like you lost your best friend for the better part of two hours, I'm gonna just go ahead and assume that whatever happened wasn't entirely your fault."

"No," I tell her. "It was."

She nods. "After almost forty years of marriage, I can tell you that in almost every fight I've had with Carlisle, we both shoulder the blame equally. There's no right and wrong where love is concerned, sweetheart. And while I love my son a great deal, he's not perfect, but he _is_ passionate. And sometimes, that…passion presents itself in unappealing ways. Especially when he cares about something as much as he seems to care about you."

My heart stutters at her words.

"I do, you know? I care about him. I know you probably don't believe me, and why would you? You don't really know me or anything. But I do. I never meant to…"

She chuckles, but her eyes are gentle and sincere.

"Both of you are beating yourselves up right now, thinking you've done something wrong. And maybe you have. But the truth is – you should be saying that to each other instead of digging your feet in the sand and hiding. But you already know that, don't you? That's why you've been sitting here trying to work up the courage to ask me where he is. And you know what? If you ask me nicely, I just might tell you."

"I think he wants me to leave him alone."

"You're wrong, sweetie," she says, squeezing my hand. "The whole problem here is that he _doesn't_ want you to leave him alone."

I look down at our hands and try to think of all the reasons why I shouldn't ask, except the ache in my chest and the pounding in my heart only lead me to the single reason why I should.

"Where is he?"

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See you soon!

Reviews are love.


	14. Chapter 14

His suite is dark when I unlock the door and walk inside. I take a minute to allow my eyes to adjust, but even before they do, I can see his bed and him in it.

He's never brought me here this week. We've spent most of our time outside on the beach or in my room. I wonder if maybe coming here was a mistake. But the teeth of the key bite my hand as I squeeze it tightly, and I'm reminded that his mother gave it to me.

She told me he didn't want me to stay away.

And though I probably should, I know I can't.

I walk over to the side of the bed, and the moonlight shines through the open window to my left. The breeze drifts in as I look at him, his body only half-covered with the sheet that's fisted in his hands. I kick off my sandals, and taking the deepest breath ever, I crawl in beside him.

He doesn't reach for me.

But I reach for him.

The moment my hands touch his bare chest, he opens his eyes. A moment later, he pulls me into his arms, holding me so tight I think I might lose my breath. But _he_ breathes, and when he does, it's just my name. "Bella."

He holds me just like this for the longest time, until finally I say, "I came here on vacation because I needed a break." I wait for him to say something, ask something, but he doesn't. It strikes me that maybe he feels like he can't. And I'm the one who made him feel that way. So I continue, "My life for the last few years has been…hard. I mean, it's not easy watching your father slowly deteriorate into someone you don't even recognize. It's even harder when no matter what you do or say, he never recognizes you. Not once. Not ever. Not a single time in the last two years."

"Jesus," he says softly.

I feel the hot tear slide down my cheek, but I take a deep breath and shut my eyes tight.

"It's okay for you to cry, you know?"

"But it's not," I tell him. "Crying doesn't solve anything. It doesn't _help_ anything, and generally, it only makes things worse."

He pulls me closer, and I let him because it feels good. Because that's the thing, isn't it? Everything about this week, _about him_ makes me feel better. And I know it makes me selfish, but I needed that this week. I needed the feeling of being trouble-free, even if it was just me pretending that all of this wasn't waiting on me when I get home.

"Alzheimer's?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Early onset."

"And you take care of him?" he asks. "Your dad?"

"Yeah, for three years now. I used to be a teacher, but I had to give it up when he started to get worse," I tell him. My heartbeat has started to slow, and I let myself sink farther into him. "Do you know why I picked the beach? I mean, I love the beach, but I love it because my dad loved it. He would bring me all the time when I was growing up. He loved deep-sea fishing."

"That's why you got quiet on the boat."

He strokes my hair, and I can't help but kiss him softly on the chest.

"It just…it just brought back a lot of memories."

"I wish you would have said something to me," he says. "I wish this was something you felt like you could share because it can't be easy carrying all this around all the time. I just…I wish I would have known."

"But don't you understand? It was easier for me not to say anything. I wanted to enjoy this week because I needed it. And you – you just made everything so easy and so wonderful. You made me feel that for the first time in such a long fucking time I could just be normal. Or at least pretend to be normal and happy. Even if it was only for seven days."

"That's the thing, Bella," he says, lifting my chin so he can look at me. "I haven't been pretending to be happy this week. And I don't think you have been either. You've made me happy. You've made me feel things I don't think I've ever felt. I _know_ I've never felt like this. Not about anyone. Just you, beautiful girl."

His lips seek out mine, and I melt into his kiss just like I always do. And this time, even though the passion is still there and still as intense as it was on the beach, there's no bitterness. There's only the sweet taste of relief. The feeling of someone holding me, needing me, and knowing everything I've kept inside.

"I'm sorry," I whisper against his lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. And if I could take it all back, I would."

"Shhh," he soothes. "I'm sorry, too. For what I said. For the way I acted."

"It's okay," I tell him, kissing him again. "I don't need you to apologize."

"Then, tell me what you need."

"I just need you."

There in his bed, covered in the dark, he uncovers me. Desperate fingers and lips seek out all the places he's come to know. Slick skin and whispered words blend together as we stop and start all night. And it's good, the way that he fucks me. Only this time it doesn't feel like fucking. This time, and for the first time in my life, it feels like more.

Somewhere before the dawn, I fall asleep, my naked body covering his, and dream of his voice and the whispered words, "I love you, beautiful girl."

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See you soon!

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	15. Chapter 15

"You're peeling," he murmurs above me.

I'm lying on a towel on his boat, and if I had the energy to lift my head and look around, I would see nothing but water surrounding us.

"That's what happens when pale people spend a week in the sun."

I feel him untie my bathing suit top just before I feel his hands, warm and slick, rubbing all over my back and shoulders. This is the most relaxed I've been all week. Maybe it's the setting, maybe it's just him, or maybe it's the fact that there is nothing secret left between us. But right now, with the ocean and the sun and the feel of his hands on my skin, I don't ever want this to end. And that scares me.

"You know," he says just before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. I feel his wet tongue lick my skin before he sucks me softly. I can't help the whimper than turns into a moan, and that only seems to make him do it harder. "If you lived here, you wouldn't have to be so pale. You could be tan and gorgeous all the time."

I don't mean to tense up at his words, but I do. I know he feels it, but he doesn't say anything.

"That smells good," I tell him, changing the subject.

"Cocoa butter," he says. "It will help with the dry skin."

"My skin is not dry," I tell him, turning my head back and looking at him. His hair is a mess and blowing in the breeze, and even though I have to squint my eyes to see him, I know he's the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Maybe I just wanted a reason to rub you all over."

Even after everything we've done this week, I blush at his words.

"Maybe you don't need a reason."

I roll over on my back, pulling my bathing suit over my head. I lay here in front of him, my breasts exposed to the sun and sky and most importantly, him.

"Fuck," he curses, just before lowering his head and taking my breast in his mouth. He sucks hard, but bites my nipple softly. "You're so fucking beautiful."

His slick hand slides down my stomach before pressing into my bikini bottom. He cups my pussy that's already so hot and ready for him it makes his finger seem cool as he slips it just inside and presses against my clit.

"Does that feel good, beautiful girl?" he asks.

"You know it does."

"You like it when I touch you like this?"

I can only whimper as he pulls his hand away, but before I can protest, he moves down. I watch him as he slides the bottoms down my legs.

"Open up for me."

And I do.

I don't even care about where we are or what I must look like because all I can care about is the way he's looking at me, at my spread sex.

"Look at you, baby," he says, his hands running up my legs and pushing them open even farther. "Your pussy is so pretty. And even pinker than your skin."

"Please," I whimper.

"What do you want beautiful girl?" he asks. "So you want me to lick this sweet pussy? Or maybe you want me to fuck it with my fingers, yeah?" His spreads me open, but just that. He doesn't touch my clit or push inside. "Or maybe you want something else. Tell me, beautiful girl, what do you want?"

"I want you."

"How?" he asks as I push up against his hand, needing something, anything, just needing more. "Wait for it, baby. I'm gonna make you come so hard, but I just need you to tell me how you want it? Do you want to come on my fingers or my tongue? Or do you want to come all over my cock?"

"Your cock," I whisper.

"Yeah? Right here outside?"

"Anywhere," I tell him, meaning it so much more than I ever thought I could mean anything.

And just like that, he pushes down his shorts, not even all the way. Only just enough to pull himself out. He pushes inside me with one long thrust, filling my head with words that are too much, too beautiful to understand while he fills my body with his. Over and over again.

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So, I think this is gonna be the last one tonight. Sorry! I really thought I could complete it today, but (looks at clock) it's kinda late here on the east coast. But thank you for all the love today. You guys never cease to amaze me. Truly. And I promise I'll be back first thing in the morning to finish with the rest of the chapters!

Reviews are love.


	16. Chapter 16

"I'm happy you didn't have to work tonight," I say.

"Me, too."

We're walking on the boardwalk. It's twilight; the sun has just set and the sky above the ocean is a deep lilac that blends right into the water.

Everything is beautiful.

Him more than anything else.

And with the feeling of his hand in mine, I say, "If I closed my eyes right now, I could pretend that everything is perfect and nothing really hurts."

"You don't have to close your eyes, beautiful girl," he says, leading me over to the edge. He lifts me up and places me on the railing before stepping between my legs. "And I thought we were past the point of pretending."

He lays his head on my chest, wrapping his arms around me. I close my eyes anyway, fighting back every single unsaid thing that lies between us. It doesn't matter, though. I feel it. I know he does, too. It's weighted, heavy. It's even thicker than the humid air I'm finding difficult to breathe into my lungs.

We stay this way for a long time, both of us silent and holding on to the thoughts we can't speak and each other. I don't want our last night together to be like this, but here we are. He's the first one to speak, and when he does, his words level me. "Don't leave."

He doesn't even look at me when he says it. He just holds me and whispers the words over my heart.

They stay there, his simple request. And if I let myself, I might be able to find it simple, too.

But it's not.

"Please," I say, my voice breaking. "Don't do this."

He steps back just far enough to look at me. I saw this same hurt look in his eyes the night on the beach. It kills me.

"What would you have me do?" he asks. "Just not say anything? Just keep everything inside and watch you walk away tomorrow when I know that you can't? That you shouldn't? Because you shouldn't, Bella. You can't just leave and pretend that all of this never happened. This happened. We happened."

"I can't, Edward," I tell him, searching his face and eyes and hoping that he can see me and understand. "My dad…"

"Your dad is sick, Bella. He's sick, and that sucks. I wish I could make it better for you, but I can't," he says, reaching up to brush away the tears that are streaming down my face. "And you can't spend the rest of your life not fucking living, watching him get worse day after fucking day. He wouldn't want you to do that. He wouldn't want the only happiness you find to be in weekly increments when you just can't take it anymore and decide to get away."

"Stop it!" I cry. "You don't know him. You don't know what I've been through with him."

"No," he says, his hands roughly cupping my face. "I don't know him. But I know you, Bella. You even said that he doesn't know you anymore. But I do. I know you, and I lo-…"

"_Shut up_," I scream, I don't even care if anyone else is around. I push him out of the way and jump down onto the boardwalk. "I told you everything. _Everything_. Because you said you wanted to know it, because I didn't want to feel like I was keeping anything from you. And you can't just take it and use against me! He's my father, Edward. _My family_. Maybe he doesn't know me anymore, but he always fucking loved me. You might _think_ that you love me, but you don't. You can't. And if you did, you would never use him to hurt me like that."

I move to walk away, but he grabs me by the arm and pulls me against him. "Don't do this."

"No," I say, yanking myself away. "I can't. I'm done. _This_…this is done."

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See you soon!

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	17. Chapter 17

I don't go back to the hotel.

I can't.

Instead, I find myself walking along the beach, shoes in my hand and my bare feet in the waves crashing softly on the shore.

I never should have told him. Not only that, I never should have let myself become so attached to someone who, in the end, would just end up hurting me this way.

I don't know how far I've walked when I decide to finally sit down on the beach. Even though I don't want it, even though it kills me just a little more, I can't keep from replaying every moment of this week with Edward. Every look, every touch, every kiss. Every single time he was inside me.

Sitting there, looking out over the ocean – the one thing that was supposed to make this week better – I cry.

I cry for my father.

I cry for the fact that he's sick.

I cry for all the hours I've spent nursing him, helping him, showing him pictures of the two of us and our life together, when nothing, not any of that seems to help, because the truth is – he will never remember any of it or me.

And then I cry for Edward, for the way he makes me feel, for not being able to accept that for the first time in my life, I might actually love another man who isn't Charlie Swan.

Sometime before dawn, I make my way back to the Ocean View. I walk up on the boardwalk – to the same place I left him the night before. I leave in just a few hours, but I can't go inside just yet.

I don't know if I can face him.

I don't even know if he wants to see me again.

I can feel the soft, worn wood under my legs as I sit on the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is just now rising over the ocean – vivid flecks of yellow, pink, and just a hint of lavender fill the horizon that seems so far off, and yet, I feel as if I could reach out and touch it.

And just like the colors, everything seems hazy.

I came here looking for some rest, some relaxation…some downtime.

I never expected to find anything else.

I certainly never expected to find him.

I take in a deep breath. I can almost feel the salt in the air on my tongue. It does nothing to take away the bitter taste in my mouth left over from the harsh words spoken the night before.

Words from my tongue.

Words from his.

They hang in the air around me, when all I want is for them to be carried away on the outgoing tide. To wash away with the waves and be carried out to sea like some letter in a bottle that no one will ever read.

This week was supposed to easy.

And it was, wasn't it?

I guess that's the problem. Everything about it was too easy.

Too simple.

Too effortless to just fall into.

And I did, it seems. I fell. So hard that it hurt. As I rub my tired eyes and stretch my aching muscles that pull and flex and stretch and burn, I realize it still does. This hurts. I don't know what to do to make it stop…to make it better.

Then I hear his voice behind me. "I thought I'd find you here."

He presses up against my back and his arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me against his warm, bare chest. Everything about this – about him – is soft and hard and fucking perfect. I don't even try to fight it. I melt against him as the sun bathes us both in its warmth. He holds me steady as I push against him, and even though I know he has to let me go, right now he doesn't.

He won't.

As the wind whips my hair around the both of us, I turn my head back, looking up at him, and say, "You didn't find me here, Edward. I found you."

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See you soon!

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	18. Chapter 18

We're standing at the front door of the lobby when the cab pulls up. The goodbyes we haven't spoken are a tangible thing between us, weighted down with the tears I know I'll cry when we do.

Just one look into his big, beautiful eyes tells me he feels it, too.

They're welling.

Just like mine.

"I was wrong," I whisper, cognizant of the few people in the lobby.

"About what?"

I take a deep breath and say the words before I lose my nerve. "When I said you couldn't love me."

"Don't," he breathes, pulling me into his embrace. His body is warm, his arms are strong, and I let myself feel every inch of him for these last few seconds. "Please."

"It's true," I tell him, my tears soaking through the cotton of his t-shirt. "I just…I needed you to know that I know. You have…you do. And I do, too. So much that it scares me and makes me not want to let go."

"You don't have to," he murmurs against my hair.

"Yeah." I nod, pulling him so tight against me that it hurts. "I do."

He kisses me then – it's searing and deep and filled with everything else he can't say. I open my mouth and kiss him back, pouring everything I can't give him inside. When I pull back, I tell him, "Thank you. For this week…for just everything."

He cups my face in his hands, and he looks at me for the longest moment. I can tell he wants to say something else, and while a part of me wants to hear it, the other part knows that I won't be able to take it. As if he senses what's going on inside me, he tells me, "You're welcome, beautiful girl."

I lift the handle on my suitcase, and I'm about to push the door open, when I hear Esme call behind me, "Bella, wait. You're forgetting your overnight bag."

She brings it over and I take it, looking at Edward one last time. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay," he says.

And with that I walk outside and get in the cab.

We're about halfway to the airport when I fish inside my bag to find my boarding pass. Waylon is talking, but I'm not really listening to anything he has to say. That's when I find it. Not the boarding pass – but an envelope instead. Written in beautiful script is just my name.

_Bella Swan_

I open the envelope to find a piece of paper folded over a brochure for an assisted-living facility in Sandstone Cove. Opening the paper, I read three words. Just three little words, and in that moment, they change my life.

_You have options._

I don't know if it's the gesture or the words, the lack of sleep or everything that led up to this, I only know that it just takes a second for me to start crying. Full-on crying that must seem hysterical to Waylon in the front seat. It only takes another two minutes for me to tell him, "Turn around. I have to go back."

He doesn't question me; he simply pulls the car over on the side of the road and makes U-turn.

"Did you forget something?" he asks.

I nod my head, telling him, "Something like that."

When we pull up to the hotel, I jump out of the car before he even has a chance to open the door.

"Did you want me to wait for you?" he asks.

"No," I tell him. "That won't be necessary."

He just chuckles like he's in on some joke I don't understand, but I don't care. Right now, his laugh is the best sound in the world. "I told you to be careful," he says. "Sandstone Cove is paradise. Once you've been here, you never want to leave."

It's harder this time to push open the door to the lobby. Maybe it's because I'm shaking with a thousand emotions I'm unable to explain. It's enough to just feel them. But when I walk inside, and the same central air covers my body, I know the goose bumps all along my skin aren't from the AC.

Esme sees me first, and she rushes over to take my bags.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

I am, but I'm not. Because he's not here and I know nothing will be okay until I see him again.

"Where is he?" I ask.

She looks to the big window to the back. "He's down on the beach."

I'm running before she finishes her sentence.

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See you soon!

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	19. Chapter 19

When I get to the boardwalk, he's not there, and my heart sinks even though it's pounding out of my chest. I look around, but I don't see him. Anywhere. I know it's ridiculous, but I panic just a little. Not because I don't think I'll be able to find him, but because, now that realize I can have him, I don't want to waste another second of my life without his face and his words and his body inside mine.

And just him.

I don't want to be without him anymore.

Ever.

I walk over to the edge of the boardwalk, and out of the corner of my eye, I see just a flash of his red hair. He's there, sitting on the sand by the cove, looking out over the ocean, just like I was last night.

I'm pretty sure I don't even feel the sandals slip from my feet, or the sand beneath them.

He doesn't even see me coming, which is ridiculous, if not a little ironic because it was the same for me. I didn't see him coming. I couldn't have.

Just a second before I crash into him, his eyes connect with mine, and then he says my name.

"Bella." Just my name. That's all. Such a simple little thing. I realize that I'm crying as I fall on top of him and we tumble down into the sand because he said my name. Only it's not just my name. It's his voice and his arms and the way that he's holding me against him even though he must have no idea what the fuck is going on. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sorry," I tell him, but it's not enough. So like an idiot, I just continue. "I couldn't do it. I had to come back. And I'm sorry I was so fucking stupid – every time you tried to talk me this week. But I just couldn't see it. I couldn't see my life as anything different than what it was. Even though you were here. Making it different. You were here and saying these wonderful things…and just being this amazing man who was changing my life…"

My words are running together, and my thoughts are so chaotic, I'm surprised I can form a sentence. But he just holds me. He holds me so tight – tight enough that I know that he understands my nonsense however jumbled it comes out.

I pull back even though I don't want to feel an inch of space between us. I pull back because I just need to see his face and let him see mine so he knows that what I'm telling him is true.

But when I do, I see his eyes, his gorgeous green eyes that are bloodshot and watery. So I apologize again. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

"Stop it," he says roughly before kissing me hard and deep. With his mouth on mine and his arms wrapped around me, my frantic heart settles, and he centers me, kisses me, and pieces me back together one broken bit at a time. His mouth moves to my neck and he speaks against my skin, "I don't care about your apology. I only care that you're here. Are you _really_ here?"

"Yes," I tell him, nodding and laughing through the tears that just won't stop coming.

"And you're not leaving again?"

"No," I shake my head. "Well, not for long. Not forever. Just long enough to get my dad. You were right, Edward. I can have a life that isn't filled with days and nights of sadness and responsibility. I can have more than that. There's help. I do have options. I just needed someone to show them to me."

"When you walked away, you took my heart with you," he says, wiping the hot tears from my face. "And I was afraid I would never get it back. But now you're here…"

He chokes on the last word, so I kiss him softly, succinctly, three times. "Now I'm here," I whisper over the sound of the ocean. "Now I'm here, and if you don't mind about your heart, I'd really like to keep it."

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Thank you for all the love. For each and every review, comment and tweet. The readers makes this fun for me. And I've been saying it for years, I have the best readers the twific fandom! I adore you all.

For Marvar - There are no words left to express how much I love you. That's why I'm left with writing stories about how much Edward loves Bella. You are my oldest friend in the fandom. Even more, though, you have become my friend in real life...my family. Thank you for everything, solemeat. You are truly the most exceptional person I know. Happy birthday.

**And** HolletLA is a goddess. **And** not only that, she is brilliant and wonderful and gracious. **And** she beta'd this for me this week like a rock star. **And** she made the entire story, each chapter, and every sentence better. **And** I love her, too!

My pre-readers - Welp. I love you all. Jaime, Kourt, and Laura...you make me happy. You make this fun. You make me want to write all the words. Thank you for your friendship. And thank you for being the amazing women that you are.

Reviews are love.


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